


Fallen

by ComicBooksBro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, Dubcon Kissing, Episode: s05e04 The End, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), like very implied, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicBooksBro/pseuds/ComicBooksBro
Summary: Dean is late getting home from a supply run.Cas is... happy about his return.To say the least.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse Castiel/Endverse Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 77





	Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Woah. So I wrote a thing.

Dean sighed as he parked the beat-up-beyond-repair car outside camp and stumbled out. He had just gotten back from a supply run; it had been hard, and they had lost more than what they came back with. Everyone was counting on him, but Dean just didn’t have any more to give. All he wanted was a shower and some _sleep._

And he needed to check on Cas.

Cas hadn’t been himself lately. Things had gone downhill since he broke his foot, and Dean hadn’t wanted to leave him. But Cas practically forced him out the door, insisting it was only a day or two, and he’d be fine.

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks out of range of any communication.

If Cas wasn’t worried sick, Dean more than made up for it with his concern for the ex-angel.

“Cas?” He called as he brushed off anyone who tried to ask him a question, directing them to Chuck instead. “Cas?”

“He’s probably in his cabin,” someone called out helpfully. Dean thanked them, not bothering to turn and look at who it was. Once again a man on a mission, Dean made his was toward Cas’ cabin.

***

He pushed open the creaky door and strode across the cabin, wrinkling his nose at the biting smell of smoke. “Cas?” He called, brushing a curtain of beads out of his way as he continued to search the house. _Those are new,_ he thought, turning a corner.

“Hello, Dean.” He looked to his left to see Cas, clad in ratty sweatpants and one of Dean’s old flannels.

“Hey, Cas. I’m sorry we took so long.” Cas just gave him a dopy smile and walked closer. He looked relaxed, which was goo— _wait. Is he stoned?_ “Are you okay?”

“I’m great—“ _definitely stoned_ “—better now that you’re here,” Cas said, his voice like smoky velvet.

That was when he lunged forward and kissed Dean.

Dean gasped as Cas covered him in hot, sloppy kisses that tasted like stale smoke, whiskey, and chemicals. Then Cas was pushing him to the ground, growling and impatient.

 _“Missed you,”_ he hissed in Dean’s ear. Dean just gasped again and stupidly let Cas strip him out of his grimy jacket and flannel. The ex-angel had just reached under his shirt and started to tug it up when Dean finally got his bearings.

“Stop,” he said forcefully, pushing Cas away, harder than he had intended to. “You’re drunk and... You’re not thinking, Cas; you don’t want this.”

Cas looked at him from where he rested, boneless, against the bed frame. “I do, though, Dean,” he rumbled, raising an eyebrow in a way that made Dean lose his breath a little. “I want it,” he whispered, crawling forward and leaning over Dean. “I really, _really_ want it.”

He bent down and kissed Dean again, hard, somehow managing to get his tongue in there. Dean wiggled backwards, trying to prevent Cas from doing something he’d regret, but Cas just grabbed him by his belt and pinned him down. “You do, too,” he hissed, pressing himself flush to Dean and nipping along his jawline. Dean's breath hitched. “Don’t lie to me, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t speak. He couldn’t lie to Cas—he _did_ want this, just under much different circumstances. All he could do was watch, dumbstruck, as Cas pulled his shirt off and started working on his belt buckle. Dean whimpered and squirmed as Cas’ cold fingertips dipped below his waistband.

“What do you want?” Cas purred, his voice smooth as honey and twice as sweet.

“I...” Dean’s voice failed him and he almost choked when Cas dragged his nails over Dean’s hips. “I don— _ohhh..."_ He groaned as Cas sucked a bruise into his neck and pressed his fingers into the dip of Dean’s hips. “Ca-a-as,” he whined, turning his head to give Cas easier access.

 _What are you doing?_ he screamed at himself. _This is wrong, you can’t... corrupt..._ Dean groaned as Cas sat up, straddled Dean’s hips, and pulled his oversized flannel off. Dean stared up at the tan, muscled body on top of him and forgot how to breathe.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas repeated, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair. Cas’ blue eyes were hooded and glazed with lust as he stared Dean down.

“Y-you,” Dean whispered, closing his eyes and letting Cas take control.

***

There was no hesitancy for them; no shy smiles and soft brushing of lips, no blushing and no hushed whispers of love. Only rough, alcohol and drug fueled passion, and the crushing guilt that came after all was said and done.

That wasn’t how it should have been.

Cas was supposed to be the blushing virgin in the chunky trench-coat, and Dean was supposed to be nervous, but look and sound every bit confident.

It would have been after. After they beat the devil and after they stopped the apocalypse, but before Cas became human and Sam said yes. Dean would’ve walked up to Cas, covered in blood, but smiling. Cas would be smiling, too, and Dean would run forward and hug him, not caring about whatever injuries he had sustained, and just be happy to see the angel alive. Cas would hug back, healing Dean’s injuries as he did so, and Dean would melt into Cas’ arms, just a bit, and only because he knew the angel could hold him.

“Hey, Cas,” he’d whisper, and deny his voice cracking when Cas asked later.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas would say, pulling away from the hug. He’d turn to leave then, saying something about duties in heaven, but Dean would grab his wrist and stop him. Tilting his head, Cas would look at Dean, making no move and saying nothing.

And then Dean would ask Cas to stay, and tell him he loved him. He’d feel like he was about to throw up for a moment, and suddenly worry that Cas would leave for heaven anyway, and never come back.

But that wouldn’t happen, because Cas would smile at Dean and lace his fingers through Dean’s, still unsure as what to do. And then Dean would lean in a little, then Cas, and on and on until their lips met, cautious and innocent.

It would have been perfect.

It would never happen.

***

The realization of what had happened set in the next morning, when Dean woke up with Cas plastered to his side.

He looked at his angel, sniffling in his sleep next to him. His broken, beautiful angel. Cas had fallen so far, all for him, for Dean. This was all his fault. If it wasn’t for him, Cas would still be in heaven, wings intact, eyes blazing with grace.

He wouldn’t be this drugged-up, corrupted _human_ that Dean had turned him into.

Cas sniffled again, Dean hoped he wasn’t getting sick.

 _I need to get out of here,_ Dean thought, somewhat irrationally. _I need to leave before I can do any more damage._ He sat up and started to move when Cas’ loose hold around his middle tightened.

“Pl’se don’ go,” he slurred, still mostly asleep. “I don’ wan’ to be ‘lone.” Dean laid back down next to Cas, and the ex-angel relaxed his hold. “Than’ yoo,” he mumbled, falling back into a deeper sleep.

Dean started to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!


End file.
